


Eye of the Beholder

by RemiSavant



Series: Atlanta Nights [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2645822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemiSavant/pseuds/RemiSavant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Walking Dead AU which puts the characters in a 1940's noir setting. It's a crime drama that takes place in Atlanta with Daryl Dixon, P.I. as the main character. The M Rating is largely for violence (but could also include adult situations, language, etc.). I do not own the rights to any of the characters, etc., etc...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter 1 **

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the words emblazoned across the upper window of the three story office building: _Daryl Dixon, P.I._ Inside Daryl’s office, the words were mirrored on a smaller scale on the frosted glass of his office door. The room was simple, yet functional; boasting a coat rack, a desk with three chairs, and a particularly comfortable couch. A lamp on the desk provided the only illumination in the room, save for the soft light on a small terrarium in the corner. Daryl dropped a few pieces of lettuce, which he had saved from lunch, into the terrarium. Its sole occupant, a box turtle, munched happily on the lettuce. Daryl walked over to his desk sat back in the chair, propping his feet up on the desk as he lit a cigarette. The sounds of the rain splattering against the window and the distant rumbling thunder mixed with the tapping of typewriter keys outside his office door. He actually found all of this quite relaxing.

The door to his office opened and in stepped his secretary, a petite blonde with bright red lips and blue eyes. Her long hair curled around her shoulders. She batted her eyes. “Pardon me, Mr. Dixon, but it’s six o’clock. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to take off now.”

Daryl turned toward her and regarded her silhouette in the doorway. After a brief pause, he replied, “Sure, Beth. I’ll see you in the morning.”

A door opened and shut in the front office. Beth shut the door and walked back into the front office to see who it was. After a brief, muffled conversation, the intercom on Daryl’s desk buzzed. “Mr. Dixon, there’s a Rosita Espinosa here to see you.” Beth informed him.

Daryl replied, “Thank you, Beth. Send her in.”

Beth escorted the woman into Daryl’s office. Daryl looked the newcomer over appraisingly. She was a slight brunette with her hair done in a chignon. Her light caramel complexion was accentuated by a hint of make-up. Her eyes were exotic and full of self-confidence. She wore a gray fitted jacket over a purple knee-length dress.   Her shoes looked like they were designed more for comfort than fashion.

“Ahem. Would you like me to wait in the front office, Mr. Dixon?” Beth asked, looking pointedly at Daryl.

He turned his gaze back to Beth. “That won’t be necessary, Beth. Would you please lock up on your way out? I’ll see Ms. Espinosa out when we’re all wrapped up in here.”

Beth glared at the woman, then nodded to Daryl and shut the door behind her, with a little more force than was necessary.

“Can I take your coat, Ms. Espinosa?” Daryl offered, gesturing toward her jacket.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” Rosita answered.

_Right down to business? Good, looks like this won’t take long after all_ , Daryl thought. “Please have a seat.” Daryl gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. “What can I do for you?” He asked, checking his wristwatch.

Rosita sat in the rightmost chair. “Well, Mr. Dixon, I fear that I’m being followed. I’ve seen this same guy watching me at work, at the grocery store, even outside my apartment.” She paused for a moment. “My boyfriend can have a bit of a temper, and I’m afraid that if I tell him about it, he’ll really hurt this guy.”

“So, why not let him take care of this?” Daryl asked, crossing his arms.

Rosita looked away, “I don’t want my boyfriend, Abraham, getting into any trouble with the police. As I said, he can be a hot-head.”

Daryl squinted, “Speaking of police, why not call them?”

“I...don’t entirely trust the police in this town.” She said, turning back to face him. “I don’t know who this guy is or what connections he has.”

“What do you want from me? I don’t exactly do bodyguard work.” Daryl asked, looking at his watch again.

“I want to hire you to find out who this guy is. Is he dangerous? Why is he following me? What does he want?” She replied, her voice getting higher as she spoke.

“I see. Alright I’ll take the case and see what I can dig up. What can you tell me about him? What does he look like?” Daryl sat forward and picked up a pen from his desk, preparing to take notes.

Rosita thought for a moment. “He’s mid-thirties, kind of husky, with dark shaggy hair and slipshod attire.”

“I see. And you say, you’ve seen him outside your apartment several times?” Daryl asked without looking up from his notes.

“That’s right.” She answered. “Why do you ask?”

“It gives me a place to start.” Daryl said, looking up finally. “I can stake out your apartment until he shows up, then I can follow him and see where he goes, who he is.” He handed her a small piece of paper and a pen. “If you’ll please write down your address and a number I can reach you at, I can get started.”

Rosita jotted down her address and handed the paper back to Daryl. “Thank you. Oh, there is one other thing.” Daryl started, “There‘s still the matter of my fee. I need half up front for expenses and the other half when I’ve found your information.”

“Of course, Mr. Dixon.” Rosita reached into her purse and pulled out her pocket book. “How much do you require?”

Once they had settled the subject of payment, Daryl stood and offered to walk Rosita out. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Dixon. I look forward to hearing from you.” She said as she turned to walk out into the hallway. Daryl shut the door, took a deep breath and said, “I thought you were going home, Beth.”

“How did you know I was still here?” Beth asked from across the room.

“I never heard you go through the front door. I like to think that I’m pretty good at my job.” Daryl replied, turning to face her. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

 

For several evenings, Daryl sat outside the address Rosita had given him with the engine off, waiting for this mysterious stalker to appear. On the third night, around 8pm, he showed up in the alley across the street from Rosita’s apartment. He looked just like Rosita had described. He was peeping into her apartment with a pair of binoculars. For almost an hour, he made no movement other than to stare through the binoculars, as Daryl watched him watch her. Without any warning, he suddenly lowered the binoculars, turned and walked down the street. Daryl got out of his car and followed the man from a modest distance.

Daryl trailed the man for several blocks before he finally stopped at a small house with a fence around the front yard. The man stopped at the front door, turned, and looked around as if searching the area for something before entering the residence. Daryl wrote down the address and returned to his car.

He spent the next week assembling his dossier on this man, whom he came to know as Eugene Porter. Over the course of his investigation, Daryl learned that Eugene was a former science teacher and occasional con man with a penchant for collecting odds and ends. He had eccentric taste in his knick-knacks and baubles, collecting things from a gold plated chess set with copper pieces to obvious knock-offs of famous paintings.

Daryl was sitting in his office late one evening, organizing all of the information he had obtained for Ms. Espinosa when there was a knock at the front door. Beth had already gone home for the night, so Daryl decided to ignore it and went back to his files. There was another knock then silence for a minute before he heard the front door open, then close. Daryl reached into his top left desk drawer and pulled out a revolver. He could see the silhouette of a man through the frosted glass of his office door. Slowly, the door opened and the shadowy figure standing in the doorway said, “Good evening Mr. Dixon. My name’s Eugene Porter and I understand you’ve been following me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Daryl closed the folder containing his collection of information regarding Eugene Porter with his left hand, while pointing his revolver at the man in question with the right. "Come in, have a seat. I assume you're unarmed," Daryl gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. He regarded the man in front of him with a wary eye. Eugene wore a slightly rumpled shirt under an obviously second-hand suit, baggy slacks, and worn shoes. His too-short tie, disheveled hair, and three-day stubble spoke volumes to Daryl.

Eugene took the proffered seat in one of the chairs. "Why are you following me, detective? And don't bother lying to me; I'm smarter than most people."

"Are you? Well, I wouldn't want to insult your intelligence." Daryl chuckled, with a hint of sarcasm as he set the revolver down. "I was hired to investigate you. It's what I do...says so on the door."

Eugene frowned. "Why? Who hired you?"

"I'm afraid that's classified information, I don't reveal the identities of my clients. I'm sure you can appreciate that." Daryl shrugged.

Eugene fidgeted in his seat for a minute, closely examining his fingernails before sheepishly asking, "Does this have something to do with Rosita Espinosa?" He watched as Daryl's eyes narrowed and the P.I. scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I see. Did she also tell you that she started following me first? I've been following her to see why she's following me."

"Why would she be following a complete stranger?" Daryl finally asked after glaring at the man for a long moment.

Eugene's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'stranger'? I have a passing acquaintance with Ms. Espinosa. She's my appraiser's secretary. As you've no doubt learned from your investigation, I am something of a collector. Not too long ago, I came into possession of an heirloom that I had appraised. Ever since then, Ms. Espinosa has been following me. This brings me to why I've come here this evening. I would like to hire you to figure out why she's following me."

"Why not go to the police?" Asked Daryl.

Eugene quickly replied, "The police? In this city? No thanks, they've got a reputation."

"So I've heard. Alright, you've got my curiosity piqued. What did you have appraised and where is this appraiser's office?" Countered Daryl.

Eugene explained that he had inherited a samurai sword from an uncle and had it appraised. It turned out that it wasn't worth very much, so he collected the paperwork on it from the appraiser's office and gave the sword away to someone as a gift, but wouldn't say who, insisting that it was irrelevant. He gave Daryl the name and address of the appraiser and a note authorizing Daryl to see any paperwork that the appraiser may have on items he appraised for Eugene. After asking Daryl for a business card and slipping it into his pocket, Eugene made a down payment on Daryl's services and left.

Eugene put the key in the lock to his front door. He was suddenly aware of the quiet. There were no birds, no crickets, nothing but the sound of the key unlocking the tumblers. He quickly stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. He reached for the nearest lamp. Not finding it where it should be, he groped around on the floor for it. The uneasy feeling that something was wrong turned into a cold chill that ran down his spine as he turned on the lamp. His living room was in complete disarray, it had obviously been ransacked. Eugene made a quick mental inventory of what thieves could have been looking for. A sudden sound of creaking floor boards, emanating from further in the house, snapped Eugene back to his current situation. He had just opened the front door to make his escape when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him back into the house. Another assailant, also clad in black clothes, closed the door and locked it. Eugene was tossed into a chair and the two men held a sturdy hand on each of his shoulders. A third man, similarly dressed, stepped out of the shadows and approached Eugene. He was fairly non-descript with short brown hair. The man squatted down to look Eugene in the eyes, smiling the entire time, and said, "Good evening Mr. Porter. My name is Gareth and I'm here for the Eye."

Eugene fidgeted a little, looking nervously between the men holding him down and Gareth. He gulped, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. What Eye?"

"Come on, Eugene...you don't really think I'm that stupid do you? We know you have the Eye of the Chupacabra. Just give it to us and everybody can be happy...well, I will be, anyway."

Eugene just shook his head in confusion and stammered. "What? I-I-I don't know what you're talking about, I swear.

"That is unfortunate," the man said as he rose, the smile slowly melting from his face. "I was so hoping we could resolve this amicably." He drew a knife from a sheath behind his back and started towards Eugene.

Less than twenty-four hours had passed since Daryl met with Eugene. He had visited Eugene's appraiser and made some discreet inquiries regarding Rosita. He was pacing back and forth as the orange rays of the setting sun shone through the slats of the blinds in his office. "So, Eugene inherits a sword, takes it to an appraiser, and suddenly the appraiser's secretary starts following him. Maybe she's after the jewel, that according to this file," he picks up the appraiser's file on the objects he'd looked at for Eugene over the last several years, "was hidden inside the sword." He plopped the file back down on his desk and continued pacing. "Then, he decides to start following her to find out why she's following him. How did I get myself mixed up in this mess?" Daryl sits down and rolls his chair over to the terrarium. "Thanks for listening, Anthony." Suddenly the telephone rings. Daryl rolls back over to his desk and picks up the telephone. "Hello? Yeah? Oh, hey, Rick. (pause) Sure, I can meet you. What's the address? 410 Meadowlark? I'm on my way." Daryl hung up the phone and turned back to the terrarium, "410 Meadowlark is where Eugene lives. Now what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Sorry this took so long. I also apologize for the short chapter. I wanted to get something out there, instead of delaying further. But, it's also late and I'm tired. The next chapter should be longer. Thank you for your patience and thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of the first story in the (tentatively named) Atlanta Nights collection. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me reviews and feedback.


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